


Cleaning Up

by TheonSugden



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Gen, Katie's corpse is in this, M/M, Mentions of self-harm, sorry katie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheonSugden/pseuds/TheonSugden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anguished Aaron tidying up the scene of Katie's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleaning Up

Aaron remembered watching CSI shows with his dad. Designer sunglasses and quips on the lip. His dad had always said “rubbish,” but never bothered to turn the channel.

Aaron had seen enough coppers to know the difference between real and fake, but when he stood outside Wylie’s Farm, only company in the world a horse without a rider, he kept wanting to look for the cameras, see that ginger bloke from Miami stroll in. Then everything would be alright.

He kept the bile in his stomach long enough to remember the job at hand. Prints. Prints. Prints. Cain had taught him everything not long after Cain had come back to village, making sure he was a “proper Dingle.” “Won’t always be here to clean up your messes, sunshine,” he’d warned. Aaron never needed his uncle as much as he did at Wylie’s. He’d nearly called him twice, keypad slick with his tears. If he got it wrong, missed one bloody print, Robert might go to jail. He knew Robert couldn’t survive in there. He’d already killed Jackson. If he killed Robert too…

"Shut up. Shut up," he whispered to himself, as if anyone could hear him, when he started on the room where…

_Oh God, Katie._

After he finished the room, he looked through the gutted floorboards. He couldn’t even see her. He saw blackness. For a minute, with the cold wind blowing through the ruins of the floor, almost calling to him, he thought of jumping. Wondered what world he’d find. Some other world, somewhere he couldn’t hurt people. 

When he went downstairs, really saw her this time, he was sure he heard her screams, like they were in an echo. Must’ve been some animal nearby, sensing it…feeling it.

He held his head in his hands, scared of what to touch, cursing himself for not having any gloves. 

She looked just like she had the night she’d stayed at the pub, night she’d had too much to drink with Chas and crashed on the sofa. 

If he closed his eyes and opened them again, she’d wake up, saying she had a neckache, asking him for an aspirin. 

"Wake up, Katie," he forced out, cloth trembling in his hands. It was just cold…he wasn’t scared…she was so cold…like she was already part of the earth… 

_"I touched her neck, to check her pulse."_

"Wake up, Katie," one last time, while he ran the cloth over her neck, terrified of leaving more marks. 

Her eyes were closed, but he swore she was staring at him as he went around taking care of the footprints. The same way she and Chas had watched him when he’d been with Jackson…like he was going to pop off at any minute. He never would have hurt his mam, or Katie…he’d never meant to kill her…

She’d stayed with Jackson one night, when Hazel had had a bad cold and Aaron had been close to running his head through a plate glass window. She’d been so good with him. So patient. 

"I-I never said thank you," he said, voice choked with tears.  

He wanted to ask Jackson to help her, look out for her, but even if he knew how to pray, he couldn’t let himself believe Jackson could hear. If Jackson could hear, or see, he’d be so ashamed of Aaron. Disgusted. Sickened.

He didn’t even deserve to speak Jackson’s name. 

He pushed the thoughts away, finishing the job at hand. 

"Don’t wanna leave you here," he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. "It’s not right."

He knew something inside him was staying behind with her, something he’d never get back. 

Small comfort to her.

He took one last look around, half-scared he’d forgotten something, half-scared of leaving this place where he didn’t have to lie, where it was still - as awful as it sounded - safe.

He had to go. He had to do this. He’d started it…had to finish it. 

"I’m sorry," he whispered on the way out. 

To Katie. 

To Jackson. 

To Robert. 

To his mam. 

Most of all, to himself. 


End file.
